Get In The Ring
by Domon Kasshu
Summary: In an attempt to cheer Windcharger up, Trailbreaker, Cosmos and Brawn drag him to a wrestling show. Things head south very quickly. No, this story doesn't take itself very seriously at all.


_A/N: This story was completed over a year ago, after my brother took me to my first live wrestling event in ten years. It was a lot of fun and brought back a lot of nostalgia. The story itself is probably more than a little goofy, but it's sort of a tribute to that sort of fun. It deserves better than sitting around on my hard drive gathering dust... so here it is. _

At first, long before we boasted locks on our wheels, it seemed a good idea.

"Optimus will kill us."

The wheel locks were our idea. Well, to be more accurate, Prowl's idea, and Wheeljack's design. 'Jack called it the Lambo Lock. A certain pair of Autobots, who will remain somewhat anonymous, felt it tremendous fun to lead authorities on a wild chase, follow police to the impound yard, then transform and step over the fence, cackling the whole way. Lambo Locks were distributed to the local authorities, and only a select few Autobots held the keys.

"Optimus will kill us."

Ironically, it started in an attempt to cheer up a comrade. One of our own, Windcharger, desperately needed a break. In a recent battle against the Decepticons, a lucky shot from one of the Seekers hit Windcharger just as he fired his weapon. The blast ended up hitting Bluestreak. The damage was minimal, but the poor minibot started to blame himself for it.

"Optimus will kill us."

No one, not even Bluestreak, could convince Windcharger otherwise. He started to sulk, taking little interest in anything. He kept away from the rest of us. Simply put, he needed something to take his mind off his troubles. And, as luck might have it, me and two of our comrades had something that fit the bill already planned.

"Optimus will kill us."

The constant supply of pessimism came not from 'Charger, but the only Autobot there by choice. Cosmos avoided the dust-up that put the rest of us here. However, as part of the group, he wanted to wait with us, and face the same music.

"Optimus will kill us."

"C'mon little buddy," I said, trying to keep my voice upbeat. "This isn't nearly as bad as some of the things Sideswipe and Sunstreaker have done. And don't even get me started on the messes the Dinobots have caused."

He finally stopped pacing, but shook his head. "The twins have rarely had cameras rolling."

Brawn didn't miss a beat. "I hope, at least, someone recorded it."

"You think this is funny?" Cosmos demanded.

The Land Rover thought about that a moment. "Well, yeah. Kinda."

Windcharger said nothing. And that couldn't help but worry me.

--

"Hey, Kev," Brawn said into the computer microphone. "It's Brawn."

"Yo, Big B!" The other voice came back with the same energy he used on screen. "What's going on, my man? Don't tell me, the Decepticons are blowing up more ish and you guys won't be able to come, right?"

"No, we're clear." The mech smirked and gave me the thumbs up. "In fact, I was hoping I could bring another friend along."

The enthusiasm drained from the voice on the other end. "They cool?"

"Oh, you have no worries."

"You told me I had no worries about the Dinobots, remember?"

"It would have worked out okay, if Slag hadn't invited himself along."

"Uh huh." A pause. "This is someone with a brain that's not intentionally designed to be small, right?"

"Right."

"And they're not going to cause a scene?"

"Of course not!"

"Okay. Hey, is Trailbreaker there?"

"Yeah," I replied. "What's up?"

"We wanted to use you in the show tonight, if that's cool."

"What did you have in mind?" I tried my best not to sound excited. In all honesty, having a part in my favorite show in television was too good to pass up.

"It's a solid piece of business," he said. "We'd also like to paint you up a bit, to put it over."

We talked over the details. Within a few minutes, I was booking an appointment with Hoist for the temporary paint apps.

--

"You're kidding, right?"

I smiled. "Is there something wrong?"

"This!" Windcharger pointed at the new paint on my sides and hood, which showed up rather nicely in robot mode, I thought.

"I can't exactly buy a t-shirt, so I thought this might work."

"But aren't these nWo people the bad guys?"

"Well, yeah. But they're funny bad guys."

Prior to inviting Windcharger, we agreed he should be kayfabe at the event. For wrestlers, that meant remaining in character. For fans, that meant not knowing the outcomes were predetermined. For my first wrestling event, I went kayfabe. When we pulled Cosmos in, he went kayfabe. It made the whole thing more entertaining. In retrospect, I've never seen anyone stop to bounce off ropes during a fight, but I ignored that detail. The point was, we always had fun. Heck, we'd even gotten to know one of the top stars of the company, and he always got us in for free. They put us on television, and it worked out for both sides.

"This paint will come off, right?" Poor Windcharger. He looked embarrassed to even know me, and he'd not even seen Cosmos or Brawn yet. Brawn especially.

Brawn went all out.

We transformed, and made pretty good time, until we hit downtown. Traffic in downtown ran remarkably slow, and I think 'Charger's embarrassment grew with every honked horn, and every young human that leaned out the window and shouted at us.

"nWo for LIFE!"

"TOO SWEET!"

No one picked up that we were Autobots, thank the Source. Sure, our symbols were on prominent display, but just about every decal place in town offered our symbols. We used driver holograms to further the illusion,

"What does Prime think about all this, anyway?" Windcharger asked over the comm lines.

"He doesn't seem to mind. Prowl isn't crazy about it--"

"Big surprise there."

"But there's not really a protocol issue or anything, so we're okay." I chuckled. "Of course, there was the one time the Dinobots came to the arena, but that got straightened out pretty quick."

"You love your forcefields, don't you?"

"They have a variety of applications."

The two remained silent as they reached the front of the arena, but Windcharger abruptly broke the silence.

"Please... for the love of Primus... tell me that's just a different Land Rover that looks remarkably like Brawn over there."

"That might be possible," I conceded, "But do you think they'd have an identical little UFO next to them?"

"Is it too late for me to turn back?"

"You committed yourself."

"I could un-commit myself."

"And disappoint all the little kids who wanted to meet real Autobots tonight? You're overreacting."

Sort of, I thought, as I looked at Brawn.

He boasted more temporary paint apps than I did, covering almost every part of his frame. On his front windshield, large letters proclaimed "Monday Night Jericho". Cosmos lacked most of the decoration the other minibot boasted, but his chest was covered in temporary paint that said "Jericho Personal Security". As we approached, Brawn waved.

"Over here, guys!"

"Whoa, are those Autobots, too?" We heard someone nearby say.

We removed all doubt as we pulled off the main road, then transformed. Well, I did.

"Something wrong, 'Charger?" Brawn asked.

"I don't know any of you."

--

As always, the set for the wrestling show looked impressive. One of the company's road agents, Dave, led us to the side of the ramp, where we would be situated.

"Normally we set up equipment here," he said in a pronounced Irish accent, "But Kevin and Eric made sure we had room for all of you during set-up."

"So, this will keep us away from the action?"

I noticed the brief smile on Dave's face as Windcharger asked the question. "Well, sometimes things get a bit rough, but yeah. This should keep you away from the worst of it."

"Good." He folded his arms and looked at the rest of us.

"How much TV time will we get?" Brawn asked.

"A fair amount," Dave replied. "Of course, our other guests will be getting some, too."

"Other guests?" I asked. Kev mentioned nothing about that.

"We've got a few troops in the front row."

"Troops?" Brawn's optics narrowed. "What kind of troops?"

"From a variety of branches, from my understand. I suspect they're part of some special unit..."

"Joes." Brawn's voice went icy cold. "There are gonna be Joes here."

I sighed. "Brawn, let it go."

"Only if they do," he said, and slammed one fit into the other hand.

"This won't be a problem, will it?" Dave asked.

"Not at all," Cosmos said. "We're okay."

Dave nodded, and walked away. Windcharger looked to Brawn.

"What's wrong with the G.I. Joe team?"

"Oh, nothing. As long as you like--"

I interrupted him before the inevitable stream of profanities hit the air. "A few of their team members gave an interview that was, perhaps, a little upsetting, just after that dust-up with Cobra we got involved with, a few months ago. Didn't appreciate outsiders getting involved."

"Well, that's their business, isn't it?"

"They called me a sawed off little runt!" Brawn yelled. "Me! A six foot tall human called me a runt!"

"They were just frustrated," Cosmos said. "They're probably over it by now. Besides, what are the chances that the ones here would be the same Joes that gave the interview."

--

"Get that sawed off runt outta here!" The cries came from the G.I. Joe team member named Beachhead, just a moment after the ring announcer introduced us.

"This is going well," Cosmos said.

"Isn't it?"

Windcharger didn't really notice, instead pointing at a sign in the crowd.

"Is that... a Decepticon symbol?"

"Yeah, that happens every so often."

"Autobots suck!" cried out the sign-wielding human.

"The Decepticons want to kill you," Windcharger said. Thankfully, he modulated his voice so it didn't overpower the crowd.

"You're a tool of the establishment," the heckler called back. "Decepticons are freedom fighters, man!"

Windcharger shook his head. "Whatever."

"Wrestling fans, the following bout is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, from El Paso, Texas, Chavo Guerrero, Jr!"

Windcharger stared. "Is that--"

"A hobby horse, yeah." Cosmos replied.

"His name's Pepe," Brawn added. "Chavo started carrying him after his uncle, Eddy, drove him crazy."

'Charger's optics flickered. "You guys watch this?"

"And his opponent... he represents the New World Order, and is accompanied to the ring by the Outsiders... Syxx!"

Syxx hit the ramp, followed by Scott Hall and Kevin Nash, the Outsiders. Nash had been the person we'd spoke to about coming to the event and, to no one's surprise, the three pointed at us as they came out to the ring. Windcharger covered his face.

"I hope no one I know is watching this."

A few minutes later, and Scott Hall was standing mid-ring.

"Now then, it's survey time!" The crowd cheered. "Now, let's see, who came here to see... WCW?"

The crowd booed. The Outsiders smirked.

"And how many of you came here to see the..."

He held the microphone out and the crowd, including all of us but Windcharger, finished it for him.

"N-W-O!"

Hall shrugged. "I was just checkin'." He then handed the microphone over to Nash.

"Y'know, I can't help but notice we have a few members of the G.I. Joe team here at ringside. How's it going, boys? Enjoying the show?" He took a minute to let that sink in. "So, you got the night off from cleaning up after the real heroes, my close personal friends, the Autobots?"

Brawn laughed. Windcharger groaned.

"Say that again!" Beachhead yelled, standing up. The other Joes next to him took his arms and pulled his back.

"America's elite team of highly trained janitors, right here!" He soaked up the boos that followed. "Now, enough of that. Let's get to the matter at hand. The nWo is making this a special night for our friends. Hollywood Hogan's defending his title tonight against Bret Hart, and I'm sure I speak for Hollywood and the whole nWo when I say we'll dedicate tonight's win to our large friends over there. Because the Outsiders, the nWo and the Autobots are just... too... sweet!"

"This is so embarrassing," Windcharger said. But, as the match progressed, his complaints slowed.

--

"So, this Sting guy just hangs out in the rafters?" 'Charger asked.

"Pretty much," I replied.

"Strange."

By now, Hogan and Hart faced off in the ring, and my moment of glory was not far away. We worked out the specifics of the storyline earlier in the night. Of course, I loved the idea of taking part in the storyline. They worked their way out of the ring, trading chops and punches as they neared us.

"Aren't they getting close?"

"A bit," I said, trying not to show my anticipation.

Within a few minutes, the wrestlers were a few feet away, with Hart getting the upper hand. My moment was coming soon. Sure enough, Hogan landed on the ground right in front of us, and Bret Hart grabbed a steel chair. He swung it down, but the blow stopped short, as if it struck thin air at full force.

And, in a way, I suppose it did.

"Trailbreaker!" Windcharger glared at me.

"What?"

"You're _cheating!_"

"Whatever do you mean?" I said, trying to play innocent.

"Your forcefield. You-you're protecting Hogan!"

The distraction gave Hogan the chance he needed. He stood up, and doubled Hart over with a solid shot to the stomach. The chair found its way into his hands, and he reared back to slam it across Hart's head. But this time, it stopped in mid-air. I looked to see Windcharger, his hands raised, with a broad smirk on his face.

"Fair's fair," he said.

Hogan tried to say something, but couldn't get it out past his own laughter. Even the typically stoic Bret Hart couldn't keep a straight face. A moment later, the rest of the nWo arrived and fought by Hogan's side.

"Hey, what about the Autobots?" a fan cried out.

"G-I Joe!" The crowd started to chant. "G-I Joe!"

As if answering their cries, four members of the Joe team bolted from the ringside area, and ran back toward us. To this day, I wonder exactly what they hoped to accomplish. America's elite or not, four unarmed humans versus four Transformers felt like really poor odds. Good luck telling Brawn that, though.

"C'mon! I'll take you all on! Four at once!"

"Guys..." Cosmos began, and started to back away.

I tried to stop Brawn. I just never expected Wingcharger to throw the first blow, flinging a soda can with his magnetic powers and hitting Leatherneck right in the head.

It got worse.

--

No one got hurt, thankfully. Even with a little too much high grade in his system, Brawn did nothing to actually hurt any of the Joes. Still, the powers that be at WCW had no choice but to call in the authorities. Only two of the Joes were taken into custody, and on our side, Cosmos avoided getting busted. Still, I gave him credit for standing by us, even as three vehicles approached in the distance.

"Prime's going to kill us," he began again. He stopped, and froze in terror, as the other vehicles identified themselves, the lights atop their roofs sparking to life.

"Correction," Brawn said, "_Prowl's_ going to kill us. Prime's good at delegating tasks like that."

"I would've rathered Prime," I said, starting to feel a little nervous for the first time.

"And Red's never gonna let us hear the end of it." Brawn added.

It didn't take long for them to arrive. Red Alert was the first to transform, our esteemed security director giving the four of us the look of a disappointed parent.

"Do you realize," he said, his tone calmer than I expected, "How difficult incidents like this make working with the humans to coordinate security issues? For some strange reason, they're less likely to offer up information when they question what you're using it for. I expect these headaches from the twins, not you."

Brawn just smiled. "Hey, I'm surprised. You're taking this pretty well, Red."

"This wasn't a security breach. This was an intelligence breach." He shrugged. "And, well, Prowl drew the short straw, so he gets to play Bad Cop. I have to discuss your release."

He walked away, and Prowl transformed. He paced in front of the fence of the impound yard a few times, stopping and looking over at us, shaking his head, then pacing more. I decided to help the Twins make him that Worry Room, after all.

"Millions of years," he said. "Millions of years I've served with the Autobots, and I have never seen such a flagrant violation. Not just of our command structure, but of everything we believe in. Autobots are meant to protect. And the three of you cause a near riot. And Cosmos. You know, I would expect better of you, as well. Couldn't you stop them?"

"Well, I am a bit smaller--"

"That was rhetorical," Prowl said, then continued. "If Alpha Trion were to see what happened in the name of the symbol he helped create, by Primus... he would be humiliated."

"Sorry," I said.

"You are confined to quarters for the next week, barring any major incidents." He paused, as if getting an internal comm. "And then you're going to perform a hundred hours of community service. And then you're going to make sure that the Ark is pristine. Understood?"

"Yes sir," he all said.

"Prime will handle taking the four of you back to the Ark."

For the beginning of the journey, no one said anything. Finally, Brawn broke the silence.

"Sorry for getting you mixed up in this, Cosmos." He frowned. "You shouldn't have been punished."

"I could have stopped you," he said. None of us bothered to point out that all logic suggested otherwise.

"And, we're sorry, Prime," Brawn said.

"You got in a fight with the G.I. Joe team," he said over the loudspeakers in the trailer.

"Yes, sir."

He thought about that a moment. "You won, right?"

We all smiled. "Yes sir."

"Good. Then you didn't _really_ humiliate the Autobots."

We continued a while longer in silence, until Windcharger walked up to the three of us. He had a serious look on his face, turning from each of us.

"'Charger, about tonight..."

"Yeah, about tonight," he said. "I'm going to be stuck in my quarters, doing community service, and cleaning up Dinobot mess in the near future, all because of getting into this whole wrestling thing."

"I know, I--"

"When do they come to town next?" he asked with a smile.

"Well, their competitor is going to be here in another two months, and we could always get Jetfire to fly us out to an out of towner." I then realized one thing needed to change. "But, um... there's something you should know about wrestling, 'Charger..."


End file.
